Daylight Robbery
by Amends to the Living
Summary: AU. Not all robberies occur at night. They come in all shapes and sizes, sometimes indirectly. Emily works at the local elementary school, along with most of the gang. Cook is a pirate. And Naomi has a very important man in her life. Naomily.
1. Chapter 1

_Beep, beep, beep!_

The sound was loud, obnoxious, and worst of all: incessant. Mumbling curses at it didn't reveal any hidden witch doctor prowess, much to Naomi Campbell's dismay. It only proved that some things could not be solved with a not-so-nice little chat, but rather by violence. Her hand stretched out from underneath the covers, searching around blindly on the nightstand and knocking over a few miscellaneous items (cellphone, notepad, and a thermometer) in the process, before she finally had the ticking demonic spawn within her grasp.

"Aha!" came the muffled cries of glory from underneath the duvet, before a head of blonde hair emerged, accompanied by a smug smirk. With a quick toss of it across the room, Naomi watched it bounce back a bit during the whiplash, since it was still connected to the wall.

Oh well, bugger luck, she supposed.

Her bright blue eyes were narrowed a bit, as they had yet to adjust to the fragments of sunlight peering in through the swaying shades of her flat. They moved along to a gentle rhythm that the blonde could not hear. Amused by something as simple as that for a moment or two, she chuckled to herself as her other hand joined the offending 'alarm tosser' one to rub the sleep out of her eyes.

As they started to regain some sort of focus, another head poked up from underneath the covers, creating a small tent around it on the other side of the bed. It always took Naomi a second to realize who it was, for those long nights of sleeping around or getting fucking mental were long gone now; well, at least for the most part…

And in its place was the most important man in her life.

She reached underneath the covers to tickle his sides without warning, grinning when she heard just the response that she was looking for: an incoherent gurgle of giggles and hushed surrenders. Grabbing the duvet and pulling it off of him in one swift motion, Naomi came face to face with another, but much younger blonde head of hair with dark brown eyes. There he was, proudly mirroring her cheeky grin.

"Morning, mum!"

(Okay, okay, the _little_ man in her life.)

Truth be told, he was the only man she needed. Ever since he came into her life, the former party animal realized that she had to be responsible. She wasn't going to be one of those mums that let her kids run the show, or gave them so much to handle that they couldn't enjoy their childhood. Even if sometimes that meant being the bad guy.

"Why didn't you wake me up sooner, Dylan? We're going to be late for your first day!" Naomi inquired with a bit of an exasperated huff, though she already knew his answer.

Excuses, the kid was full of them. He was a mere five years young and he'd already made a whole encyclopedia of excuses for every occasion. If he was this crafty now, she wondered how bad he would be when he was in his teens. Then again, it was something she'd rather not think about, to be honest. Gave her a bleeding migraine when she did. Her eyebrow quirked to show that she meant business, though the little boy didn't wipe that little impish grin off of his face.

"Dunno," Dylan replied with a faux yawn, reaching up to wipe at his eyes with that innocent doe look in his eyes. It wasn't long before he added that irresistable little pout; you know the one, kids use it all the time to sucker their parents about…

But not Naomi Campbell, no sir.

"What if they don't like me?"

And there it was, the one question that everyone asks themselves before they step foot into a room full of strangers and new lessons to be learned. Acceptance. Naomi knew the struggles behind those words, because she had lived, breathed, and pondered them every single day of her life.

Way back when she was around his age, playing in the sandbox with a little boy named Wesley. He was nice, and everyone called him Wes, but Naomi didn't. In fact, she refused to do so after she spotted him kicking sand at another little girl, making her cry just because she didn't give him a lolli. So Naomi unapologetically pushed him headfirst into the box, before giving the other girl back her sweets, even if they were unedible now because of the sand and all.

It really didn't matter though; it was the principle of the matter and the bright smile that she received as praise from the other girl afterwards.

And ever since then, she had no tolerance for injustice. Naomi also hoped to raise her son to respect others, or at least as much as possible without being a doormat. His little hand waved infront of her face, before staring back at her expectantly for a response. He wanted some sort of reassurance, or a promise that she simply couldn't make, because you can never please everyone.

"The ones who matter will. Now go get dressed," the older blonde replied with a smile, reaching over to ruffle his short hair as he slipped on her shoes—which were far too large for him, unless he was planning to go to clown school—and shuffled across the floor reluctantly. "Dyyylaaan!" she dragged out his name in protest, before letting her head fall back into the pillow with a groan. The shuffling grew faster, until it stopped altogether.

She reached up to brush her hair away from her face, peeking out from over the pillow to see no one standing by the open door and no traces of the oversized shoe stealer anywhere. "Good. I've still got it," Naomi muttered triumphantly, just short of a fist pump for her fine mother hen workings…

That is, until she felt the weight shift on the other side of the bed.

Her back was to it, but she had a rising suspicion that she knew _exactly_ who was jumping on the mattress, causing the springs to squeak loudly. "If I catch you, I'm going to make you wear the jumper grandmum made for you," she warned, smirking broadly when the movement came to a complete stop and suddenly a pair of feet hit the floor with a thud, before a flash of blonde disappeared from the room. _Oh yeah, she still had it._

Now don't get Naomi wrong, Gina's gift for her grandson had been thoughtful and all, but knitting wasn't exactly her forte. Cramming eleven people into a single house? Now that was. Oh, communal living, how she _so_ did not miss those days. Not that her life didn't have the same amount of unpredictability, because it did. And this morning it was…

"Coco Puffs or Lucky Charms?"

Naomi looked to see Dylan sitting on the kitchen counter, his legs hanging off the edge as he held up both cereal boxes. For quite some time before today, she'd wondered how he managed to get himself up there, until she noticed the little stepping stool that he'd snagged from their hallway closet.

The blonde wasn't necessarily short herself, but she never knew when it would come in handy… what? Maybe she'd date a short girl someday. Not that dating was really a priority in her agenda, not when she had her hands full with a different kind of short and ten kinds of adorable.

"Neither," Naomi answered as she moved to grab a cup of coffee, much to Dylan's mock dismay, before she watched him scrunch up his face and dig deeply into the box. She set the coffee maker and leaned back on her hands, watching his look of intense concentration with a quirked brow. "Baby, what _are_ you doing exactly?"

But Dylan didn't seem to hear her, making all sorts of expressions as he travelled through the nutritious pieces of sugary goodness, before curling his hand around something. "I got it, I got it!" he yelled, not noticing that his mother was still standing there much like a deer caught in headlights. Then he pulled out a prize, some sort of boat with a pirate driving it.

"Looks a bit like Uncle Cookie, don't it?" Naomi observed as she took the toy into her hands with a laugh. "Come on then, grab a poptart and we'll get going."

"Is he coming back soon?" Dylan asked, before shoving a handful of cereal into his mouth and grabbing a package of poptarts, one for him and one for his mum—yeah, the one who never remembered to feed herself properly, but always nagged _him_ about it.

"Should be. We can call him tonight, if you want. I bet he's got a good bedtime story or two lined up for you."

There was a bright smile from both parties as they each grabbed their bags, wondering what the world had in store for them today. Dylan kept thinking about pirate ships and sea monsters, while Naomi wondered what monsters of her own she would have to face today.

* * *

Funny how this felt like the first day of school for her, when really, it was all about them.

Emily Fitch gazed out of the window of the room that was meant to be her classroom for the rest of the year. It was one of the nicest, overlooking the schoolyard that had some new equipment this year. She was proud of the successful funding events that she helped organize and it was no mistake that she was situated here. Knowing the principal had its perks.

"Enjoying the view?"

The redhead turned her head just enough to acknowledge the new presence standing beside her, though she wasn't really new at all. They had been attached at the hip for the better part of her life. "It's lovely what they did out there," Emily mused, noticing how the hedges had been clipped into little woodland creatures and dancing figures like a scene right out of _Edward Scissorhands_.

"Yeah, you should be proud."

A light blush colored Emily's cheeks as she looked to the brunette beside her, reaching over to squeeze her hand gently. "I just helped, Katie. You're the one that keeps everything together," she said modestly with a little shake of her head, not wanting to take all the credit.

Her sister squeezed back, before sighing gently as she smoothed down her leopard print skirt. Some things never change. The emptyness in her heart the day she found out that she couldn't have kids still lingered, but it got better after taking this position. Katie was around them all the time, giving them advice and telling them what to do, but she still had a life on the weekends without one of them tugging on her arm. It was the perfect fix, she believed.

"Better get back to work then. I hope you get a good group of brown nosers this year, Ems," Katie teased with a smirk on her curved lips. She knew that her sister would make a teacher's pet out of all her students, save for one or two that were just bad apples in dire need of one of her Fitch speeches.

"Same to you, Katie," Emily jeered back with a playful wink, knowing that her twin absolutely adored having people at her beck and call… especially the fit male vice principal, Frederick McClair. She almost swore that he was picked solely on looks, for he was rather broody and didn't seem interested in much besides the school counselor.

Ems wasn't quite sure what to make of her either; but she thoroughly enjoyed the fact that she had been there longer, so even when Katie did want to toss her straight out on her arse, Effy Stonem had seniority. It was a not-so-secret power struggle that often played itself out during their lunch break, when Emily would sit with a few of her collegues a couple tables away and just watch them go at it.

Sometimes it was a staring contest, though she wondered if they were secretly just eye fucking each other. Might as well get it over with already… I mean, Jesus!

Want to know the sad part though? The best comeback that her sister could come up with after one of these intense sessions was: "What the fuck kind of name is Effy anyway?"

Yeah, I know, and Katie calls _her_ students brown nosers…

With a gentle sigh, Emily shook her head to herself as she crossed her arms over her chest, looking out the window again. It was about half an hour before school started, so she still had plenty of time to fantasize about her perfect school year. She wondered what young, eager minds would humble her this year.

It wasn't long into her class when she noticed a little boy that would prove to be challenging. He had this charming, yet mischievous way about him, and Emily couldn't help but look up his name. He was smart and opinionated, all good qualities in a leader, but he seemed like he was more interested in leading a group of rebels. Her brow curved as she visually followed her finger down the role call, before tapping on a particular one:

"Dylan Campbell."

* * *

**A/N:** I had to spend the day in a waiting room yesterday and this idea came to me. The show never happened, so they're all given new roles in this AU setting. Although Naomily is central, I do plan to explore the other characters (because Cook the Pirate is far too much fun to pass up), but I'm not entirely sure if I'll continue. Thoughts?


	2. Chapter 2

Standing with her hands resting on her hips, Naomi's bright blue eyes trailed across the usually messy desk full of paperwork, vanilla folders, and personal keepsakes. Many of her co-workers would argue that her work ethic was uncanny, to say the least. Unless everything was a _complete_ mess, she could never find anything. Maybe that's why her eyebrows were furrowed and sitting up high on her head, because someone just decided to sort things out for her, all nice and proper.

You see, her desk was a daily reminder of her past, and unless it stayed that way, the blonde social worker reasoned that she would end up resorting to bad habits. Yes, she still had her mum in her life, but now that she had a son, Naomi ended up doing most of the nagging. She wasn't quite sure where she had even learned about discipline… perhaps watching too much telly was actually a good thing.

(When some wanker didn't _steal_ it and make off with it, that is.)

"JJ! Can you come here for a minute?" Naomi called out with an impatient tap of her foot, not looking like a very happy camper and that, ladies and gentlemen, is an understatement.

It took the curly haired young man an estimated two minutes to reach her. Add another thirty seconds because he managed to verbally trip on flat surfaces with a lopsided smile when he replied with a simple, "I knew you'd like it! I realized that if I sorted out your cases alphabetically, you would waste about three minutes less looking for the file, assuming that you didn't have the luck of the draw on your side by picking it up right off the bat. Then, I labeled… oh bobbins, you wanted the _green_ labels, didn't you? Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

Naomi had opened and closed her mouth continuously for a total of about three times throughout that rambling session, not sure when she could get a word in or if it would be of any use if she did. JJ had been assigned as her partner, or assistant of sorts. She had been informed beforehand that he was calculating, but this was a little ridiculous! How was she supposed to find anything when it was so… organized?

Great, now everything was lost again.

Still, she appreciated the effort, so she rested a hand on JJ's shoulder and took in a deep breath, "JJ? … JJ! You're getting locked on!" Naomi shook him gently, before he snapped out of it and closed his mouth. "Thanks for trying to help, but you _really_ didn't need to go through the trouble. I liked it just the way it was."

"But… but it was everywhere!" JJ gestured with his hands, unable to understand how anyone could find something in that sort of mess.

"Exactly. And these labels are fine, by the way," Naomi reassured him, before realizing the words that came out of her mouth as they finally sunk in fully. "Wait… you _labeled_ them?"

JJ nodded, now sporting a bright, but forever sheepish smile as he looked to her expectantly.

Naomi decided not to stay another word, giving him a gentle nod of her head before plopping down unceremoniously into her chair behind her desk, which JJ gladly took as his cue to leave. Huffing some of her blonde tresses out of her face, she brushed away the rebellious streaks before reaching over for a picture of her with Dylan. She traced her fingertips over the curve of his cheeks, before looking to see how happy she looked… happy, yet exhausted.

Because that's what being a mother felt like and you never got a break. Not from worrying, or fretting, or being grateful for every single second that you have with your child. Your senses were basically a 24/7 panic room, preparing yourself for anything and everything.

It was strange having someone so dependent on her. If Naomi wanted to quit her job, she couldn't, at least not without finding a quick replacement first. She was the breadwinner, the disciplinary, and the spoiler. If she had known how tough it had been for her mum to raise her all on her own, maybe Naomi wouldn't have been so critical about her mum's lifestyle.

Then again, it _was_ communal living that led her to this point in her life.

After growing up around strangers and not knowing who will wake up in your bed with you next, Naomi realized that she wanted to help people. Not just people, but kids. Her situation had been shit, what with no privacy and random little spurts of guiddance here and there. But ultimately, her freedom had opened her mind up to the idea of fighting for others.

Naomi was pulled out of her reverie when she heard her phone ring, instinctively pulling open all the drawers in search of it. She was quick to forget about the little cleaning spree that had gone on during her absence. Muttering curses under her breath as she leaned down to dig deeper into the sorted mess, she stopped when she saw something move out of the corner of her eye.

Lifting her head again to peer over the desk, the blonde came face-to-face with JJ, who was holding out the phone in his hand. He smiled apologetically, though Naomi could swear that he was enjoying this just a tad too much as she grabbed the phone from him and brought it up to her ear.

"Child services," she replied as she quirked an irritated brow at JJ, tightening her grip on the phone after she heard Dylan's name being mentioned. "Yes, this is she… _Dylan?_ Is he okay?" Her breath caught in her throat and Naomi didn't realize that she had been holding it until the soothing voice on the other line calmed her down.

"Oh, I see. What's he gone and done now? Mm-hmm… mm-hmm… yeah, that's my boy," the blonde added with a smug grin, before clearing her throat a bit when she realized that she shouldn't reward his bad behavior, even if she _was_ proud.

JJ had rested his head against his hands as he watched her closely, observing the way that her face lit up with what most would describe as 'a motherly glow.' He wasn't really paying attention to what was being said, knowing that it was none of his business and that she would tell him if it was. He noticed that she had started to pack up some of her things, glancing down at his watch with a perplexed frown. It wasn't time to leave yet. So that could only mean one thing…

"JJ, would you mind taking my calls for me and letting me know if the Moritz family gets back to you about that shelter? I'm going to take some of these files home with me tonight and I'm sure Patrick will be here any minute," Naomi said without giving him any eye contact, as she was already halfway out the door by the time she finished her sentence.

"Sure," JJ replied automatically, "I promise not to rearrange your contact list."

Naomi's figure had practically disappeared behind a pair of glass doors, but her blurry shadow could still be seen as the door swung open again, their bright eyes meeting across the room in a narrowed playful manner. "I thought phones did that automatically?"

"Not taking into consideration the first digits after the area code, or prime numbers."

The blonde blinked a few times, creases forming on the bridge of her nose as she looked at him again. "If only you would use your powers for good," Naomi remarked with a small chuckle, shaking her head to herself before she continued towards the parking lot. Reaching into her purse for her keys, she mumbled, "Quite odd, that one."

* * *

"And then, he trapped the bloody Kraken in a box! Have you ever played _Snake_, Principal Fitch?"

Katie simply shook her head, watching the young blonde closely as he recounted his secondhand sea tale. "If you eat yourself, you lose… the Kraken lost too." Giving his principal a toothy smile, Dylan Campbell bent forward to give a little bow to the empty office, before moving to sit in her leather chair and going for a little spin.

"That's quite the story, Dylan… but I'm afraid it doesn't excuse your behavior during recess," Katie said firmly, remembering that she should frown at his lack of conduct when it came to her private things, however cheeky and adorable this little munchkin was. "And please don't do that, you can fall and get hurt. Get off."

Dylan simply rolled his eyes, before hopping down on to his feet and shuffling reluctantly back into his seat, making as much noise as possible to show his obvious disdain at her request. "Doesn't matter. Mum will be here soon," he sighed with a casual shrug, leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest defensively.

He knew that Naomi would defend him. I mean, she said so herself that she would _always_ love him, no matter what. So surely she couldn't get mad at him, right?

"Why did you do it?"

The blonde boy looked back at the authority figure with a slight tilt of his head. "Code of conduct, chapter three," he said, digging into his bookbag for one of the agendas that his mother had been given when she enrolled him here. He chose to use the backside as a treasure map, after circling a few things that had interested him when he asked Naomi to go over it.

Dylan stood up again after Katie had taken a seat behind her throne of sorts and set the agenda down with one of the pages open, pointing down at the circled text. "Coming to school shoeless is not permitted?" the principal read aloud with a curved brow, making Dylan frown and flick through it again, before seeing a bright read circle and smiling triumphantly.

"Freedom of expression is encouraged," Katie read again, before lifting her point finger in the air for emphasis. "_Within_ reason."

Dylan held her gaze for a moment, finding her to be a formidable opponent and satisfied enough to keep quiet until his mother arrived. He swung his legs to and fro, humming gently to himself. It was a sailor's song that Cook had learned throughout his travels and Dylan didn't go a night without requesting a sing-a-long with his uncle or his mum.

Katie watched the young boy's actions, knowing the bare minimum about his background through his personal records. For some reason, she didn't see eye to eye with his mother, but then again she was a stickler for first impressions. Attitude was everything and both women had plenty of that.

She barely noticed Emily slip back into the room and neither did Dylan.

* * *

One thing that Katie did notice, however, was how Effy Stonem had conveniently opted to stay in that afternoon, probably scrutinizing her with her fancy little psychology terms and that irritating little mumble when she was asked a yes or no question. "Is she _still_ out there?" she wondered aloud to herself as she moved towards her door, peering out into the other office to see a head of brown hair typing loudly away.

Effy had a sixth sense when it came to being watched, knowing that there were a pair of eyes on her coming from the principal's office. She just chose to ignore it, because it was more fun that way, acting like you had the upperhand in every situation. Not just fun, but safer too. It wasn't as pleasant to be answering the questions, as it was to ask them.

Finally, she lowered her square framed glasses and let her icy blues drift over to Freddie's door instead. The light was off, but she knew that he was still in there, probably passed out. He'd tried to make some small talk with her during their lunch break, but Effy was far too focused on ignoring Katie to pay much mind to him.

Still, he did intrigue her to some extent. There was always a distant look in his eyes, like he was waiting for something or someone. Maybe he just didn't know it yet and he wanted to enlist her skills to help drag it out of him. But Effy was no one's toy, and if she was going to be picking apart anyone's mind, it was going to be Katie's.

Why the eldest Fitch, you might ask?

Because Katie didn't _want_ to be picked apart, it was as simple as that. She wasn't easy; she was complicated and fucked up. Freud would be proud of Effy if he knew how many tongue slips she'd caught from the other brunette. Emily was also of interest to the counselor, but only in relation to the former. She wondered why the redhead gave in so easily and allowed Katie to take over in most aspects of her life, always situated above her somehow and treating her like a doormat.

Effy was pretty certain that parent-teacher conferences took place between the teacher and the parent, not a leopard print clad principal. So she promptly stood from her desk and strode over to the group, noticing the way that Katie immediately pulled her twin into a makeshift conversation to cover up her former actions. "Can I have a word with you?"

Katie scrunched her nose up at the obvious intrusion, but waved her hand with a nod as she stepped out of the office with her arms crossed over her chest. "Yes? Incase you didn't notice, I was in the _middle_ of a conversation…"

"I noticed," Effy stated flatly, her bright blue eyes narrowing slightly in hidden amusement. "Don't think discussing next season's fashion is of any importance in this setting." Katie scoffed at this assumption, but Effy had effectively managed to get her tongue-tied. "I think she's ready to handle this on her own, Miss Fitch. Unless you want to go against protocol and open up that opportunity for others."

Katie was unnerved by Effy's… well, nerve! Who the _fuck_ was she to go around telling her how to do her job? But she knew that the counselor was doing all of this just to get a rise out of her and she couldn't help but think in the back of her mind that Effy was striving to take her job from her. The elder Fitch twin didn't want to give her that kind of satisfaction. "Eavesdropping is frowned upon, Stonem. So if we're going to talk about bad habits, you might want to start there. As for spending time with my sister, I'm on my way out. I was merely keeping her busy until the kid's mother gets here... alright? So step off your high horse and stay out of my way."

Katie brushed passed the slender girl to return to her office, collecting her things and giving Emily a brief hug. "You'll do fine," she reassured the redhead, before dropping her voice as she added, "And if you have to put the bitch in her place, do it. Don't let anyone walk all over you. Especially not Ef—I mean, Naomi Campbell."

Emily rolled her eyes at her sister's overprotective nature, but humored her with a nod regardless. "Come on, Dylan. We'll go wait for your mum in my classroom," she said sweetly to the little boy, who had discovered a gameboy in Katie's confiscated drawer. Toying with her bottom lip at the obvious sight of rebellion, she opened her mouth to speak but she was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Drop it, Dylan. You're in big trouble, mister."

* * *

**A/N:** JJ as Naomi's assistant seemed comical to me, and somehow, this story has veered into its snippets of Keffy interaction. Yay/nay? Next chapter will have its fair share of Naomily, so don't fret, m'dears. Thanks for reading (:


	3. Chapter 3

Turning slowly and taking in a deep breath, Emily readied herself to face the little boy's mother. They met briefly that morning when Naomi dropped him off, though it was only a quick exchange of looks and pleasantries. Then they spoke on the phone, but it really didn't do any justice to the breathtaking blonde.

"Hi," she said as she extended her hand for a shake, mentally beratting herself for the stupid, horribly cliché introduction just seconds after she said it. "Emily Fitch… again. Sorry to have called on such short notice, but I felt it was best to start the year off on the right foot."

Naomi nodded as she took in the redhead's appearance, letting out a sigh of relief when it wasn't the principal that she ran into. For some reason, there was some unspoken bad blood between them, not that she minded. "Naomi Campbell. I'm Dylan's mum, as you know," she said, reaching over to ruffle her son's head when he clung to her leg. "Should we go somewhere?"

Emily was snapped out of her temporary transfixion on the mother-son pair, nodding firmly as she led the way back to her classroom. Flicking on the light, she revealed a warm and friendly atmosphere full of colors and shapes. Drawings were hung up on the wall from past students, who still visited her frequently. "I'm sorry we didn't get a better chance to talk this morning. It's always a rush the first day," she stated with an apologetic shrug of her shoulders, turning around only to find that Naomi and Dylan hadn't followed her inside.

"What happened?" Naomi leaned down to be at the same level as her son, now eye to eye with him as he shifted uncomfortably in his spot.

"Nothing, I just… I don't like this place, mum."

"Dylan, sweetie, you just started. I thought you were going to give it a chance? Your teacher seems nice… how do you think she'll feel if you just up and leave? She'll never know those stories uncle Cook tells you," Naomi tried to reason with him, taking his smaller hand into hers as she looked back at him with her head tilted at a friendly angle.

"No, she won't," Dylan repeated with a nod, before frowning a bit, "So she'll never had lived! Because those stories are epic… epic, mum!" He opened his hands and flailed them a bit, reminding her of JJ's gestures earlier.

"So let's try to make it 'til show and tell, okay? We'll dress you up all proper and maybe Cook will be able to stop by, make a little guest appearance. How's that sound?"

Dylan's dark brown eyes seemed to light up at that new prospect, unable to control the glee in his quick steps towards the classroom, calling out a quick "Whizzer!" before rushing right passed Emily whom had been leaning against the doorframe.

Naomi caught her gaze in the hallway, before moving forward to stand and throwing an apologetic look her way. "Sorry 'bout that."

"No, no need to apologize, it was… it was great," Emily said reassuringly with a warm smile, looking at the blonde woman with complete adoration and admiration in her chocolate brown eyes. She had witnessed most of the conversation, picking up on a few things that weren't in the file. Like how well Naomi smoothed things over with Dylan, without putting him down or making him feel like his opinion didn't matter. She spoke to him with a certain sense of equality that was refreshing.

Naomi wasn't sure what to say, since she just saw it all as part of her job description. It was the best job in the world: being a mother. She tugged on her lower lip with grin, lowering her gaze before waving back towards the classroom.

"Shall we?"

* * *

Dylan felt like he was living through an episode of Charlie Brown throughout most of the meeting. That's all he could hear coming from their months: _wah, wah, wah_. His dark brown eyes drifted between the redhead and the blonde, completely disinterested in their whole conversation. Grown ups were such a bore.

Usually his mum wasn't _that_ bad, but when she was around other people—especially girls—the littlest Campbell found himself spacing out.

Sometimes he looked up when his name was mentioned, but for the most part, Dylan could only concentrate on one thing: his empty stomach. And he was rather proud of the fact that he shared his healthy appetite with his uncle Cook, since he wanted to be just like him when he was older.

"So he kept a few kids prisoner on deck and whispered to the girls about _parlay_?" Naomi laughed through her recap, glancing at her clever son. He had always been so sweet on the ladies, even at such a young age. Of course, she would have supported him not matter who he was attracted to, but it was just so adorable that he didn't buy into the cootie stage. It showed character and maturity.

"Yes. He said that he was a pirate and he walked around with his shirt tied around his head, swinging a tree branch 'round," Emily added with a nod as she bit her lip lightly to try to keep from giggling. "It's brilliant that he has such a good imagination, but then when recess was over… he climbed up a tree and wouldn't come down, stripping down to his skivvies and holding up some sort of book..."

"Chapter three?" Naomi asked with a quirked brow, remembering when Dylan had asked her to read the code of conduct to him. He liked books a lot. Mostly just to learn the rules and figure out how to twist them to his liking. Clever boy. The fact that he climbed up a tree didn't surprise her much, or even that he stripped down, since he'd been to a few of the protest rallies with her and his grandmum. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea for him to tag along after all.

"I'm sorry?" Emily asked, not catching on to what the blonde meant and it wasn't because she was stunned by her physical appearance or anything. No, she just simply wasn't in the office at the time when Dylan had explained his methods and reasoning to Katie…

Okay, okay, so she's _beautiful_.

"Nevermind," Naomi muttered with a shake of her head, sighing a bit as she looked to Dylan, before looking back at Miss Fitch. It was true that she wanted Dylan to settle down and have a normal life, or at least as close to it as he could with her last name in tow, but another reason might be because she found his teacher to be very attractive. "It's not important, it's just—"

"I'm hungry," Dylan cut her off with a sharp tug on her sleeve, before shoving his hands into his pockets and waiting impatiently by shifting his weight from one foot to another. It was his first attempt at cutting this little meeting short, since he was rather bored anyway. Besides, Naomi was his mum and he didn't quite like the idea of sharing her with the redhead, even if they were just talking.

He'd seen that look in her eyes before, though it was mostly just when she was flirting with someone on the street. She was careful about who she introduced into his life. He liked it that way, just the two of them. Just Naomi and Dylan.

"Oh, umm," Naomi began, knowing that it was rather late and she hadn't packed him a snack. Her eyes darted about as she tried to come up with some kind of quick fix, like a band-aid for a scraped knee. "I'm sure we'll be done soon. Maybe we can… take this to the shop down the street? I mean, unless you have other matters to tend to—"

"No," Emily's response came rather quickly, surprising even herself with her bluntness. However, the blonde mistook her answer with a slightly disappointed look as she reached for her son's hand and started to collect his belongings. "I mean… yes, that's fine. I don't mind."

Naomi gave the redhead a gentle smile, before they both glanced at Dylan for some sort of confirmation from his part. She never liked to do anything that would make him uncomfortable and Emily understood the need for him to be involved in his mother's decisions.

"Okay," came the simple reply from the young boy, who slipped on his bookbag and bounded ahead of them over to the door.

* * *

Dylan Campbell was playing with a bendy straw as the two women conversed, trying to include him in the conversation as much as they could, but he didn't seem to be cooperating. He had ordered a cup of hot chocolate and Garibaldis, while Emily and Naomi nursed their espressos. From time to time, Naomi would steal one of her son's favorite treats (a _mutual_ favorite, really) and take a bite, before he would snatch it back and stuff it into his mouth with a cheeky grin.

"How long have you wanted to be a teacher?" Naomi asked, although she knew that they weren't here for a round of twenty questions, but it was always nice to know more about the people in charge of your child during the day.

Emily took in a small breath, glancing up towards the ceiling in a pensive matter as she tapped on her chin rather adorably. "As far back as I can remember," she said with that husky edge to her voice, which made the blonde's blue eyes settle on those moving lips for a moment before meeting her eyes again. It was a bad habit, she knew…

Oh fuck, she was developing a bad habit for her already.

"My sister and I have always done everything together. So for most of my life I thought I was going to end up in fashion, or doing whatever she wanted. Then I had an English professor that really inspired me to… take my own path, I guess," Emily continued, giving the other woman a warm smile. "Your turn then. What do you do?"

Naomi was starting to understand the dynamics of the Fitch twins, and because she was lost in thought trying to piece everything together, she wasn't exactly prepared for the spotlight to be placed on her. "Me?" She licked her lips as she suddenly felt short of breath, her heart thumping so hard in her chest that she was damn near sure that Emily could hear it.

"Why, being a bad influence to my son, of course. Isn't that what all mothers do?" Naomi joked, nudging Dylan in the side to try to get him involved. _Come on, kid, I'm dying out here._ "I'm a social worker, actually."

Dylan briefly looked up from his mug, blowing bubbles through his straw before he propped his face up in his hands. "Yep, mum helps people," he added, before reaching over for the crayons that came with the kids menu. "She doesn't go around getting them into trouble…"

Naomi noticed the bitter undertone in his voice. "Knock it off, Dylan. You only brought it upon yourself," she chided him gently, watching as his face fell when he looked back to her. "Em—I mean, Miss Fitch was only trying to help you."

"You're taking _her_ side?" Dylan said with hurt in his narrowed brown eyes, glancing incredulously between the blonde and the redhead. "You said to stand up for myself!"

"Dylan, I'm not taking anyone's side," Naomi sighed, parting her lips to continue but she was stopped when Emily finally spoke up again.

"Your mother loves you very much, Dylan. She came for you as fast as she could and you're a very educated, creative little boy. But you know that what you did was wrong… you could have gotten yourself or someone else hurt," Emily said gently, although she could see that he was becoming very defiant when he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I know how to climb a tree," Dylan stated in a matter-of-factly tone, quirking his brow as a clear challenge towards the redhead.

"That's not the point. When your teacher asks you to do something, you do it. Case closed," Naomi said with her more demanding voice as she got into her mummy pants, knowing that he was just being difficult because that was every five year old's job at some random point during the day. She was a little disappointed that it had to be during their meeting with his teacher though. She didn't want to look bad infront of her, or for her son to be misjudged by a first impression.

Dylan got a sour look on his face just then, but he stayed quiet. Clearly, he was angry that his mother was being the disciplinary mum instead of the fun mum today.

"I'm sorry for my son's behavior. I really don't know what's gotten into him—"

"No, please. Really, it's okay. This is a new environment for him and I completely understand. I should really be getting home anyway," Emily said as she sneaked a quick peek at her wristwatch, before gathering her things. Reaching into her bag for her cellphone, her fingertips brushed against his class portfolio and her brown eyes lit up a little. "Oh, wait."

Dylan remained staring down at the countertop, while Naomi's baby blues drifted across the table to the portfolio being offered to her. She took it and opened it, seeing Dylan's first drawing. It was a quirky little portrait of his uncle Cook setting sail for the high seas and there was a little boy standing beside him. Upon closer inspection, Naomi smiled when she realized who it was.

"Dylan, is that you?"

Finally, the little boy lifted his gaze to peer over at the drawing. He simply nodded before going back to staring down at the table, effectively giving them the silent treatment.

"It's quite good," Emily chimed in, hoping to lift the boy's spirits. She felt bad for accepting his mother's proposal and putting him on the spot like that, but she couldn't tolerate his antics and risk the other children picking up on his rebellious ways. She hesitated before speaking again, toying with her bottom lip as she added, "Is that his father?"

Both Campbells suddenly looked up at her and Emily felt her cheeks getting hot under their inscrupulous gaze. Clearly she said the wrong thing, because the next thing she knew, Dylan spilled his hot chocolate all over the place and Naomi nearly choked on her coffee. Oh fucking hell.

"I'm sorry, I didn't—"

"_Christ_, that's hot!" Naomi yelped as Dylan's drink spilled on her trousers, grabbing a handful of napkins from the holder to dab most of it up. Emily tried to clean up the mess on the table, while Dylan apologized to his mother for his fumble. He didn't mean for it to get on her…

His intended target—a certain Emily Fitch—was missed by just an inch or two.

* * *

**A/N:** Wow, I didn't think this would catch on as well as it did. Yes, there will certainly be more Keffy! And for the record, _totalfreedom_, there is no such thing as oversharing (:


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **My apologies for taking so long to update. It's been a really busy month and my laptop has been acting up. The brightside? This is pretty much two chapters in one go and the direction of the story seems to have cleared up a bit more in my head. As always, thanks for all the kind words and enjoy (:

* * *

"Umm, I didn't quite catch that last part. You were busy distracting me with the lovestruck look in your eyes," Katie Fitch teased her younger twin with pursed lips and her manicured hands resting on her hips. To anyone else, the brunette might come off as intimidating, but Emily knew that she was just trying to help; in her own way, that is.

"What?" Emily asked with an innocent look as she stopped talking mid-sentence to humor her sister.

"Ems, the deer caught in headlights look isn't very attractive. Besides, you do remember _who_ you're trying to fool here, right?" There was a moment of silence and the redhead offered a sigh of defeat, while Katie merely grinned in accomplishment. "Right then. Start from the beginning."

Emily rested her hands on her lap as she walked Katie through the parent-teacher conference with Naomi, skimming over the surface and purposefully leaving out the flirty little smiles in between. It wasn't that she didn't trust her sister with the information, it was more that maybe she didn't trust herself not to misconstrue it.

"So the munchkin spilled his drink all over his mum? That doesn't mean he hates you, it just means he's a klutz. Can't imagine where he picked _that_ up from," Katie snorted, her demeanor changing as she took a jab at the blonde.

"Katie," Emily said slowly in a warning tone, not sure why she felt protective over the mother-son duo. For now, she just chalked it up to being a good teacher. As her sister rolled her eyes and disappeared behind an issue of Heat, the redhead pondered the exact moment when things turned for the worst. "What do you know about Dylan's father?"

A raised brow was visible over the edge of the magazine as the brunette replied, "She came alone with him on Orientation, so I've never seen him."

"Hmm," was all that the thoughtful redhead mumbled, before hopping off of the countertop on to her feet. Emily was determined to make it up to them. She wanted to win Dylan over, so that he wouldn't give her a hard time in class, and in turn she wouldn't have to give his mother a hard time about him. It was that simple. So then why did it seem so hard?

"You're overthinking things," Katie called out from her spot at the kitchen table.

"Yeah? And just who do you think you are, Effy Stonem?" Emily retorted, fully prepared to duck if a magazine was chucked her way. Instead, she received a wide-eyed glare that was more surprised than intimidating. "I think you fancy her…"

A choking sound was heard from the other extremity of the room, where Katie fucking Fitch was practically gagging on her own spit. "What the _fuck_ are you on? She's a psycho analytic… mumbo jumbo… fucking lunatic!"

"She's fit," Emily stated observantly, not missing the little impish grin curving on her sister's lips. It was brief and ghost-like, but she caught it. And Katie hated being caught.

"You do _know_ it's morally wrong to get involved with your students, right?"

"I'm not interested in Dylan, perv. I'm not interested in anyone," Emily remarked unconvincingly, before snatching a box of fags off of the table and turning towards the door. Before she stepped outside, she glanced over her shoulder for a moment. Her vibrant red tresses framed her face as a playful little smirk crossed her features.

"And you do _know_ that it's morally wrong to get involved with a co-worker, right?"

Katie growled loudly in disdain, the magazine hitting the wall right beside where her sister's head had been with a loud smack, just a second or two after the door closed.

* * *

Dylan bounded into his mother's bedroom and plopped down on her bed, watching as her laptop illuminated her features. Naomi didn't peel her eyes away from the computer screen as she lifted the covers, waiting for him to get in before her hand returned to the keyboard to aid the other one.

"He'll be on in a minute. Did you brush your teeth?"

The younger blonde nodded, but didn't verbally respond.

"You missed a spot," Naomi stated, before turning her head to look at her son with a small knowing smile. The little boy furrowed his brows, watching as she reached over clean off the smudge of toothpaste on the corner of his lips. He made a face and wiped at his mouth with his long sleeves, wondering how she could even know that without looking at him first.

Naomi giggled at his antics and shook her head, before wrapping her arm around him as he leaned his head against her shoulder.

"Is he back home yet?" Dylan asked eagerly, feeling snug under the duvet and clad in his Mighty Mutant Ninja Turtle pjs.

"No, but he did stop at a pub. Says he had good reception there and wanted to talk to us through the webcam," Naomi said with a small yawn, glancing down to her four minimized windows on the laptop that were all work-related. She used to be able to stay up for hours, but work and being a single mother were taking its toll on her. The blonde didn't have much time for anything else, so it was great to be able to have these simple little moments with her son.

A few minutes later, Cook's grinning face appeared on the screen as he set aside a beer and waited for confirmation from her part. "Aww, that's nice. Two of my favorite people right on the big screen! How's m' protégé?"

"Hey, uncle Cook! I started school today," Dylan said with an eager wave of his hand, before pulling something out of his pocket. "And I drew this, look. I told Principal Fitch about your battle with the Kraken."

Cook's grin seemed to curve into more of a lopsided smile, his bright eyes narrowing to see the picture that Dylan was holding up against the camera. "Aye, that's fu—"

"Cook," Naomi shot him a warning look for his language, though she was proud of them for being able to clean up their act around Dylan. Well, almost.

"Right, sorry," Cook said sheepishly with a scratch of his head. "What I meant to say was that's great, kid. So, tell me about this Principal Fitch… is she easy on the eyes?" This question roused a hearty chuckle from Dylan, but it seemed more directed at Naomi, who muttered something under her breath.

"Sorry, what was that, Naomikins?" Cook teased, knowing that she was uttering profanities.

"Nothing," Naomi said with the biggest fake smile she could muster.

"Mum's more fond of the redhead," Dylan stated with a shrug, catching Naomi off guard.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" she quickly interjected, pulling Dylan into a tight hug to try to get him to forget whatever train of thought he was riding on. "I don't need a girl. Cook's enough of a girl as it is."

"What?" Cook protested rather loudly with a bout of dry laughter as he threw his head back.

Dylan joined in on the laughter as Naomi looked on with her arms crossed over her chest defensively. Of course, she didn't take it to heart, but she could tell what Cook was getting at and she didn't like where it was heading. Especially not with her son around.

"Tell me a story," Dylan demanded as he composed himself and stared straight back at the screen at the man that he had dubbed uncle Cook. Naomi kissed his forehead and tiptoed out of the bedroom, knowing that it was her cue to give them some time together. She heard gurgles of laughter as she moved down the hallway.

* * *

Naomi knew that they would be alright on their own for a few minutes, and besides, she really wanted a smoke. She didn't have one during her lunch break today. She wasn't as bad about it as she used to be, but once a day kept the growing awareness of her responsibilities away.

Closing the door behind her, the blonde slipped her hand into the pocket of her robe and pulled out the box. Fumbling around for a lighter, she mumbled a quick "Shit!" as it fell from her grasp and hit the concrete. On her way back up from leaning down to collect her bearings, Naomi noticed someone standing on their porch from the corner of her eye.

It was probably the new neighbors that had moved in while she and Dylan had stayed for a few days with her Mum.

Not paying much mind to it, Naomi inhaled deeply and pursed her lips to exhale a row of crafty smoke rings. With every puff that escaped her parted lips, she felt another burden leaving her lithe frame. The lost cases, the mistakes she had made with Dylan (including the ones she _would_ make along the way), and everything else that plagued her mind late into the night.

This one in particular was starless. Not a single one in the sky. She was sure that her assistant JJ would have some kind of explanation, one that she quite frankly didn't care for nor understand.

Naomi saw something move once more and this time she didn't ignore it. Turning her head, she found herself staring right into the eyes of none other than Effy Stonem, the guidance counselor. She remembered her from Orientation, but they never really talked much.

When nothing was offered in terms of a greeting besides a little nod of the head, she didn't get the feeling that fact would be changing very much either. It didn't bother her. Naomi was generally a solitary person and there was something about Effy that told her that they were compatitable in that manner.

"Nice work," Effy finally spoke, making Naomi glance around a bit to make sure that no one else was near them.

"Pardon?"

Effy's lips seemed to curl into a natural smirk—a little _too_ natural, if you asked her—before they parted to exhale a puff of smoke. She then held up the fag for emphasis, raising her brow as she waited for the blonde to catch on.

"Oh, the smoke rings! Right," Naomi said with a nod of her head. "You're Effy Stonem, aren't you?"

Effy merely nodded. "Making you Naomi Campbell," she stated with a little tap of her mailbox, before she crossed over the small threshold between the two houses. "How do you feel about the principal?"

Naomi wasn't sure of the relevance of the question to her first—or would be _second_—impression, but for some reason it seemed like it was important. "Quite frankly, she's a bitch," she stated honestly with a shrug of her shoulders, tapping the end of her cig into a flowerpot. "I'm not sure how you put up with her."

Effy seemed satisfied with that blunt response, her lips slowly easing out into a smile. "I think this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship," she stated in a stoic manner. Normally, she would leave people at ends with her words, because her body language didn't match her voice. But Naomi found herself at ease with her neighbor and their newfound common interest…

Or lack there of, anyway.

* * *

Dylan's eyes widened as Cook swung his arm to and fro, imitating a sword fight complete with grunts and growls and howls of pain. The youngest Campbell was so wrapped up in the story that he barely registered the absence of his mother in the room. Then he heard some voices coming from outside, since the window was open.

Cook kept it lively until the very last moment, before throwing his arms up in the air. "And that's how you get it done, mate!" he grinned, before noticing the anxiety etched all over the little boy's features. "Everything alright, D?"

Dylan was snapped out of his reverie, turning back to the storyteller with a firm, if not overexaggerated nod of his head. "Yeah, just gotta take a piss," he lied, which Cook was too drunk to refute. "Thanks for the story, uncle Cook."

"Aye, don't let me keep you, kid. It's way passed your bedtime anyway. Say g'night to your mum for me," Cook nodded with a grin, before adding, "I'll try and call before I set sail again."

"I don't have a bedtime, silly!" Dylan chuckled with a shake of his head, before they exchanged good nights and he closed the laptop. Hopping off the bed, he moved over to the window, but he couldn't get a proper look at what was going on in the dark. Moving out to stand behind the front door, the little boy pressed his ear to it and he tried to decipher the faces behind the two voices.

"Have you always wanted to be a counselor?"

"No, but it's easy to read people."

"Read people? What do you mean?"

"Like you. You're tired, but you feel a sense of obligation to yourself and to your son. So you don't allow yourself to expand on your life."

"I could if I wanted to. It's just… tiring, I guess."

Dylan's face scrunched up at his mother's words, misinterpreting her conversation to mean that she was tired of him. His lower lip trembled as he sniffled, before setting his jaw and curling his little fists at his sides. _Well, if she didn't want him anymore, then fine!_

He scrambled back into his room angrily, turning his bookbag to empty out his folders and school supplies into a drawer. Grabbing a few things that he deemed important, like his nintento ds as well as a framed photo of him and Cook both dressed as pirates, Dylan changed into overalls and slipped on his favorite pair of shoes. He glanced over at his bed, toying with his bottom lip for a second.

Nodding mostly to himself, he began to pile up stuffed animals under the covers until it looked like a huddled small form. Turning on his heel and heaving the bag up higher with a grunt, he took the back door and left. The young blonde glanced over his shoulder longingly with a fixed stare, before running off into the night.

* * *

"Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't change it for the world," Naomi continued, unaware that her son had been eavesdropping on their adult conversation. "I'm just not sure I'm getting it right all the time. It's like… a game of Clue. Trial and error."

"Mmm," Effy nodded pensively, flicking off her end of the cigarette. "Life's a game. It doesn't come with a manual, you just work with the cards you're dealt."

Naomi nodded and looked up to see that the light had been dimmed down in her bedroom, which reminded her that there was a little boy that was running dangerously late on his bedtime schedule tonight. "And you give the world your best poker face, even if you've got the worst cards on the table," she finished with a nod, before extending her hand out for a shake.

Effy stared at the blonde for a moment, almost a moment too long, before clearing away the doubts and sense of discouragement as she shook it back. Just like a greeting was overlooked, so was a goodbye. They both parted their separate ways and fell back into the easy routine of their lives, none the wiser about the world, just aware.

One thing that Naomi wasn't aware of, however, was that the leading man in her life was no longer snug tight under the covers. She underestimated how clever he was, a quality that had given her mother a fair share of headaches, and fell for the lump lying in his bed when she checked his room. Opening the door just a crack, she muttered a gentle good night to the inanimate objects and went straight to her bedroom.

But the knot in her stomach was telling her that something was wrong. She was too young for night sweats and she had never been a particularly bad sleeper that tossed and turned so much before. What was it about tonight?


	5. Chapter 5

Naomi didn't mutter as many obscenities when her phone went off, the distinct _Kylie Minogue_ ringtone setting off red flags in her head about just whom it could be. Flicking on the light on her nightstand, the blonde huffed her hair out of her face as she brought it up to her ear. "Cook, it's fucking…" her words trailed off as she looked to the clock, which had just clicked to midnight.

"Well, hello to you too. It's not _that_ late, babe," Cook brushed her off with a chuckle, before licking his lips. Then his tone became a tad more serious, if that was even possible. "Look, Dylan was a bit off tonight after we talked, so… I just wanted to see if he was… you know, alright."

Naomi furrowed her brows at this, her expression softening a bit at his obvious show of concern towards her son. "He's fine, Cook. He was sleeping when I got back in," she said with a nod that she knew he couldn't see. So she elaborated. "I was just talking to our new neighbor. She works at his school as his guidance counselor."

"A counselor, yeah? Sounds like she'd make a real mess of your head, Naomikins," Cook chuckled and the blonde could almost see the shit-eating grin that had suddenly spread across his lips like wildfire. "I shagged a psychiatrist once… real righteous, that one, and complicated as shit. Tried to determine how fucking damaged I was by our positions. In bed."

Naomi rolled her eyes at his typical response, which always led back to some lewd sexual act with someone or another. "Cook, we're _not_ shagging," she said with an irritated edge to her voice, which was a little raspier because it was lightly coated with sleep.

"Right then," came the male voice from the other line, which was clearly trying hard to mask his amusement. "But you know, if you were, you can take the laptop out with you and…"

"Cook!" the blonde yelled in exasperation, before ending the call and muffling a groan with a pillow over her face. "Fucking tosser."

However, his worries seemed to pick at her as the hours went by, until Naomi finally slipped out of bed to satiate her curiosity. She could just sneak in and sneak out without waking him, she decided. So imagine her surprise and horror when she pulled back Dylan's covers to find a bunch of stuffed animals keeping his bed warm.

* * *

Flicking off the end of her cigarette, Emily turned her head to blow out the smoke lingering in her mouth. It was chilly out, which she always seemed to underestimate, so she reached up to rub her upper arms as she walked along the sidewalk. Sometimes it was easier to collect her thoughts when she was alone. Without Katie, or her students, or the parents of her students… even if one in particular just wouldn't leave her be.

Naomi Campbell was with her all the time; in her _thoughts_, that is.

Maybe it was a sense of guilt for that look on her face when she mentioned Dylan's father. Or maybe it was the fact that she was smitten. Completely and irrevocably smitten by the beautiful stranger who said all the right things.

Emily knew that it was silly to allow another person that she barely knew to have this sort of power over her. But after witnessing their talk in the hallway, how Naomi spoke directly to her son without putting him down or making him feel so small, the redhead couldn't help but admire the blonde. The exact reasons for that were still unknown.

Throwing the fag down to the ground and putting it out with her shoe, Emily began to turn back towards her place, but she stopped mid-turn when her dark brown eyes fell on another figure by the bus stop. _It couldn't be, could it?_ Taking in a deep breath that made her chest heave once, maybe twice, she plucked out her professional composure and crossed the street.

"Hey," she greeted in her husky, warm tone as she crossed her hands before her. When she didn't receive an immediate response, her pearly whites tugged down on her bottom lip in thought. "Do you mind if I sit?"

Emily waited until the other person shuffled aside a little on the bench, leaving her more than enough room to sit without invading their personal space. She crossed her legs at the ankles, looking out into the darkness for a moment, before digging her hand into her pocket. "Gum?" she asked as she pulled out two sticks, handing them one and keeping one for herself. But instead of popping it directly into her mouth, however, she began to play with the wrapper.

"Dylan, does your mum know you're here?"

The little boy didn't look up at her as he shook his head, unwrapping the piece of gum and shoving it into his mouth. "She wouldn't care," he added with a shrug, swinging his legs to and fro gently as he refused to meet her eyes.

"I doubt that. What's wrong?" Emily asked as her brown eyes narrowed deeply in concern, refraining from placing her hand on his shoulder because she didn't want him to run off and she knew that they weren't on the best of terms; not for lack of trying on her part though. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Dylan stayed silent for a moment, not saying a word, and Emily was almost convinced that he wouldn't. But then his head turned in her direction, giving her a once over, but it wasn't intimidating. It was as if he was judging her character, trying to see if she could be trusted. Before he could make his final decision, Emily decided to speak on her behalf.

"It's okay," she said gently, reaching out with her open hand and offering it to him. "I know how it feels to be your age. It's such a big world out there."

Dylan surprised them both when he took her hand, taking in a deep breath that reminded her so much of Naomi. "You wouldn't understand," he stated with a distant look in his eyes, a little too distant for a little boy his age. "She doesn't want me anymore."

Emily shook her head immediately, giving his small hand a little squeeze. "Of course she does, Dylan. You don't know how lucky you are to have a mum like Naomi," she said with a sad smile, making him raise his gaze and stare at her. "When I was growing up, it was all I wanted."

Dylan's dark brown eyes, the ones that seemed to mirror her own in color, suddenly widened as a sense of realization spread across his features. "You mean… you were adopted too?"

It was in that single moment that Emily Fitch finally understood. She knew why she had such an interest in him. She understood why he was acting out and so overprotective of his mother. They were more alike that he thought, and if she could just prove that to him, maybe things wouldn't be so hard this year. "Yes," the redhead answered with a firm nod, before her lips parted for a gentle sigh. "My sister and I—"

"Principal Fitch?"

"Yes, Principal Fitch," Emily said with a gentle chuckle, still not used to anyone calling Katie by something so sophisticated. But she certainly fit the title with her attitude. "We only had each other." It was still hard to talk about her past and she wasn't sure just how much she should tell the little boy. It wasn't like there was a manual for this. "You know, Dylan… I'd never try to take your mum away from you. I think she's nice. But she'll always be your mum."

Dylan stared back at her for a long moment, nodding as the words sunk in little by little, before he grinned like a wolf in sheep's clothing. "She likes you," he stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Emily had to remember to breathe so that her cheeks wouldn't turn different shades of red, like she normally did and then ended up matching her hair.

"And I think you like her too," Dylan added, quirking a brow gently to see if Emily would refute it. When she didn't, he looked down at his Scooby Doo watch. "You can take care of her. I'm gonna go be with uncle Cook. He's a pirate."

"Dylan," Emily began, looking up to see the bus coming up around the bend. She knew that she had to act quickly, or this could turn for the worst. _Fuck._ She should have called Naomi immediately, but she thought she could handle it. What if she couldn't? "Dylan, you can't go. I'm sure your uncle Cook cares about you very much, but… if you go out there, how is he going to fight all those sea monsters? He'll be too distracted trying to look after you."

Dylan had pulled away by then and he was already zipping up his bookbag, but the tail end of her argument caught his attention. "I can take care of myself," he reassured her with a shake of his head, looking up as the bus came to a stop just a few feet away and the passengers started walking out.

"But your mum can't," Emily said as she reached out to place her hand on his shoulder, making him lift his head to meet her gaze square in the eyes. "Adults make mistakes too, Dylan. Give her a chance to explain herself… Chapter 5, remember?" she smiled gently as she used his previous clever tactic against him.

Gently removing her hand, Emily turned it so that her palm was facing up as she held it out to him and added, "Come on, hun. I'll take you home."

* * *

Naomi was a downright mess as she called out her son's name throughout the household. She opened all the cupboards, checked in the closet, and even looked under the bed, remembering when they were playing hide and seek once and he fell asleep under there. But the youngest Campbell was nowhere to be found.

Her heart was thumping against her chest, pounding so hard in her ribcage that Naomi was afraid that it would stop beating at any moment. Something was different about this time. She could feel it. Suddenly, the doorbell rang and she had to do a double take to make sure that she hadn't leapt out of her own skin. "Coming!" Running her hand through her short blonde tresses, Naomi somehow managed not to trip over herself (or the things scattered unceremoniously all over the floor in her frantic search) as she moved towards the door.

When she opened the door, a gasp was caught in her throat as Naomi stood face to face with her son and a very familiar redhead. "Jesus, you scared me," she whimpered as she wrapped her son tightly in her arms and held him against her chest, refusing to let go even as he struggled under her hold. "Don't you _ever_ do that again, you hear me?"

Emily's lips parted in a nervous smile when those bright blue eyes flickered up to meet hers, gasping sharply when Naomi wrapped her up in a grateful embrace. "Fuck's sake," the blonde whispered into her ear, before pulling away. "Thank you so much. Where'd you find him?"

"He was at a bus stop. He said he was going to see his uncle Cook?"

Dylan shuffled his feet underneath him, only looking up when Naomi leaned down to be at his level. "Baby, why would you run off like that?" his worried mother asked him as she touched his face, hooking her curled index finger under his chin to lift his face up gently.

"I heard you talking," the little boy explained. "You said you were tired of me."

"No," Naomi said with furrowed brows and a firm shake of her head, before repeating her words in a mantra-like state. "No, no, no… sweetie, I could _never_ be tired of you… you're my son, Dylan. Just because I'm tired doesn't mean I don't want you. I meant that I was tired from work and everything else."

Dylan's lips slowly curled into a relieved smile, before nodding his head gently. "Oh," he said innocently as he tilted his head at her. "Okay."

Emily stood rather awkwardly in the doorway, not sure if it was her cue to leave them alone in their reconciliation, or if she should stay for any further questions.

(Or _hugs_, those are lovely too.)

Naomi glanced over Dylan's shoulder to look at the redhead, flashing her a pearly white smile as she moved to stand. Pulling her son up into her arms, she huffed a bit at his added weight to her center of gravity. "Umph, you're getting so big," she said to him, before setting him back down. "Why don't you go upstairs and change back into your pjs? Don't go running off this time. I'll be right there."

Dylan nodded at his mother and turned to head towards the stairs, but he stopped and ran back to Emily. Practically crashing into her lithe, slender form, they nearly toppled over as he embraced her. "Thanks," he said to his teacher as he tilted his head back to look up at her, before running upstairs to unpack and do as he was told.

Naomi watched the exchange carefully, walking forward a few steps to lean her head against the doorway. "Would you like to come in, or are you just going to stand there all night?" the blonde chided her playfully, though Emily could see right through her glossy baby blues. She could see the worry and the relief behind those beautiful eyes, but she wasn't expecting anything from this. Emily genuinely cared about people. She would have done it for anyone.

The redhead's lips parted to form an answer, but a loud honk caught both of them by surprise and made them turn to look back outside.

If Naomi squinted her eyes well enough, she could just barely make out Katie Fitch's form leaning over from the backseat, giving the world a nice view of her… well, _assets_. The brunette didn't seem to mind, so long as she got her impatience out in the open.

For a minute, Emily seemed to blur out of her focus as Naomi locked eyes with Katie, their seering dislike of each other tainting the night air. None of the usual retorts were thrown about, but they didn't need it. Emily could feel the tension cracking like lightning in a cloudy sky. "I really should get going," she said, though she wasn't sure that Naomi was listening.

Then a fourth presence made itself known, in the form of Effy Stonem showing up on their doorstep. Waving her hand infront of Naomi's face, whom blinked and ended her staring war with the eldest Fitch twin, she grinned lightly. "Find him?"

"Yeah… yeah, Emily found him, actually."

Effy turned her head to acknowledge Emily with a nod, knowing that something was missing in this picture. There was rarely an appearance of Emily without her posh twin. And sure enough, the heels of Katie _fucking_ Fitch were clicking against the pavement as she joined the group.

* * *

Smoothing down her pencil skirt, Katie lifted her chin a bit as she looked from one woman to the other. "Alright, so is this lezzer convention over or what?" she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest with a brow raised.

"Katie, I didn't ask you to—"

"Of course you didn't," Katie cut her sister off, waving her hand dismissively. "But as the principal, it's my duty to make sure that one of your students got home alright. Besides, the driver is perving… this must be the best fucking night of his life."

All four of them turned slightly to look towards the cab, where sure enough the driver was peering out of the window.

"Reminds me of Danny," Emily remarked offhandedly, giving her sister a teasing look. "He _hehehe_-d all the way home after you dumped him straight out on his arse last month."

Katie didn't appreciate the flaws of her partners being discussed in front of her co-workers, as if that would somehow reflect badly on her, so she gave Emily a sharp 'cut it out' look. "For your information, Danny was a great boyfriend. He was fit, he had a good sense of humor, and he was hung," she stated in a matter-of-factly tone.

Naomi was amused by the banter, exchanging looks with Effy every now and then, who seemed equally entertained.

"But this isn't about me. It was about bringing Dylan home," Katie added, before clearing her throat a bit. "_Ahem_…"

Naomi could almost feel the demanding brunette's gaze burning holes into her skin, but she wasn't sure what she was expecting from her. "Yes?" she asked with raised brows, knowing that Katie had just come along for the ride. She probably didn't want her sister mixing with 'that Campbell bitch' or something. It wasn't that hard to figure out after their run-ins at the school.

Effy was staring at Katie with that coy little smile tugging on the corner of her lips, and once Katie caught sight of it, she no longer needed nor wanted anything from Naomi. A staring contest was renewed between the pair; one that was far more intense than it had been with the blonde. Naomi and Emily looked at each other, nodding silently as they went inside and left the feuding women standing on the porch.

_You live for praise,_ Effy's bright blue eyes seemed to say. _It's unhealthy._

_Yeah? And you live to stalk me. Can't say I blame you though. I mean, I'm Katie fucking Fitch… but honey, you don't stand a chance,_ Katie's dark brown eyes countered as her pride showed through in her smug grin.

_Who says I need one?_ Effy's icy blues replied silently. _You're not interested in the cabbie._

_I'm sure as fuck not interested in you,_ Katie's dark eyes narrowed defensively as her hands curled into light fists at her sides.

_Stop fighting it,_ Effy's eyes stated as she stared right through the other brunette, not blinking or looking away for a second. _Everybody loves me._

The staring contest went on for a few more minutes, neither of them wanting to break eye contact or give in. Their egos were running far too high to allow that kind of downfall. No one wanted to lose so far in the game. But it was an unexpected voice that broke them out of their reverie, coaxing a slightly embarrassed look from them both.

"Just kiss already!" Dylan called loudly from his window, before laughing as he closed his shades. If they had been paying enough attention, they could have _sworn_ that both Emily and Naomi were staring down at them from either side of the little boy. But that could have just been their wild imaginations playing tricks on them, right?

_Please, let it be our imaginations,_ both of them mentally pleaded.

* * *

**A/N:** Second update in the same week! I must be getting my groove back. I'm not sure if this story is going in a good direction, or if it seems too rushed. But I enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hoped you enjoyed reading it too (:


	6. Chapter 6

After Dylan was tucked away in bed, Emily gazed from the doorway of his bedroom as Naomi leaned over to kiss his forehead. She watched through the dimly lit room as they exchanged a look that spoke for itself, displaying all the fears and worries that they had individually encountered that day. Moving away to allow them a mother-son moment, her dark brown eyes drifted across the pictures that were hung up along the hallway. Most of them were recent, which was clearly given away by the fact that little Dylan was in them somehow, leaving much to be desired in terms of picking up something from Naomi's past.

When she heard a set of footsteps heading her way, Emily tore her gaze away from the photographs, not wanting to come off as snooping or nosy. She just wanted to learn as much as she could about this woman. She wanted to know her.

Before Naomi had even crossed the threshold into the hallway, there was a young voice calling out to her again. "Don't forget to leave the door open a little," he said quietly, before they heard him rustling the sheets as he moved to lie on his side. After releasing a yawn, he added, "Please and thanks, mum! G'night, Miss Fitch."

"Goodnight, Dylan," Emily replied back quietly, with a warm smile as audible in her voice as it was visible on her face.

Naomi left the door open just a crack, adhering to Dylan's wishes before turning towards the redheaded savior. The worst-case scenarios involving her son could have _easily_ happened tonight, but they didn't. And she was eternally grateful for that.

More grateful than she felt that she could express with words alone, but she would try.

* * *

Moving safely out of earshot from Dylan, Naomi led her into the living room. She brushed her palms against the material of her jeans, not sure exactly when they had started sweating. It could have been before or after her son was found. It could have also been just a few minutes ago, when she realized how important it was for Emily to have been involved in their lives when she was. Or it could be both.

Politically, Naomi had always been very involved, but when it came to fate, destiny, and matters of the heart… well, she was a _mess_.

"Would you like something to drink? You've come such a long way," Naomi began politely after she cleared her throat slightly, trying not to let her gaze linger too long on the other woman. But before waiting for a response, she quickly began to spew a string of gratitude.

"I don't think I can thank you enough for what you did. Bringing him back here so late, convincing him to do so… I know he's tough. He gets that from me, unfortunately. But he's… he's _everything_ I have. Christ knows where he would have ended up if he had gotten on that bus. They're not very careful about that sort of thing and Dylan is so clever… I'm _sure_ he would have talked someone on there into playing the part of the parent just to get permission. But anyway, I just—thank you."

Emily had taken a seat opposite of Naomi, not trusting herself to sit too close to her. It wouldn't have mattered regardless, because Naomi had risen from the couch halfway through her speech and was now beginning to pace anxiously around the living room, while Emily's dark brown orbs followed her figure around the room. Growing up with Katie as her twin, her sister, her confidant, and sometimes even her mother, she was not used to firsthand experience with a mother that cared so deeply for her children.

"You don't need to thank me," she said with a gentle shake of her head, reaching up to brush some stray red tresses behind her ear. "I can see how much you care about him, Miss Campbell."

"Oh, please, call me Naomi. Miss Campbell makes me sound like my mum," Naomi remarked with a scrunch of her nose in a playful distaste. She was pretty sure that she looked a little ridiculous, but she couldn't help the reaction…

Not anymore than Emily could help finding it rather adorable.

"Sure, Naomi," Emily said with a small nod of her head, saying the name slowly as she tested out how it tumbled smoothly on her tongue and fell from her lips. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, almost like she was _meant_ to speak it, as silly as that sounded. Blame the late night romantic comedies, she supposed.

"Umm, while we're at it, I'd prefer Emily. Katie can have the title of Miss Fitch… I'm sure she'll be thrilled."

Naomi nodded at that with a hearty chuckle, suddenly feeling a lot more relaxed and calm. It was an interesting contrast to how frazzled and frantic she had been just moments before. She could easily chalk it up to unhealthy amounts of caffeine that she drank daily to make it through the day, or the short smoking session where she'd chatted a bit with Effy, but she knew that it had something to do with Emily.

A _great _deal, actually, if she was being honest with herself.

"Okay, Emily. I—" Naomi began, but she was cut off by the sound of the door opening and the click-clack of a very expensive set of heels scuffing against her floor.

"Will be seeing her out?" Katie finished for her, clearly still a bit flushed at being ambushed by the school counselor and the playful jesting words of a five year old. "That's what I thought. Come on, Ems."

Emily felt the tension rise exponentially in the room at the arrival of her twin, letting a barely audible sigh slip passed her parted lips as she pushed herself up on to her feet. She did have to admit that it was rather late. And one thing that didn't escape her attention was that there wasn't another person dwelling there. It _was_ late, as she thought so herself. This simple fact brought on an unexpected bout of glee and a little bit of hope, nestled somewhere deep down in that big heart of hers. So she stood with a smile on her face, moving over to extend her hand to the blonde that held more of her attention than Emily was ready to admit just yet.

"It was nice seeing you again, despite the circumstances," Emily said, while bracing herself for the skin-to-skin contact as Naomi returned her handshake. It was firm, yet soft in its own way. And the simple brush of their palms made pinpricks appear on her porcelain skin, although it was much too dark when they stepped outside to be noticed by the human eye.

"Thank you for everything," Naomi replied as she flicked on the porch light, which lit up the pathway that led out to the cab that was waiting patiently for them. A little too patiently, but then again the meter was running, so he wasn't in a rush. Realizing this, the blonde reached into her coat and pulled out her pocketbook.

The twins were seated and a little confused when the cabbie didn't start the engine yet, seemingly gazing out the open window of the passenger's side, like they had all the time in the world.

"Really? Okay, what the _fuck_ is it going to take for you to get this show on the road? Do you know who I am? Do you?" Katie spat at the driver impatiently, before defensively crossing her arms across her chest and leaning back. It didn't help that she was met with Emily's lovestruck gaze, again. _Ugh_. "Might have to flash him our tits or something, babes. I think Campbell broke him." With a bit of a snort, she added, "Might've broken you too, with that silly look you've got on your face. You should see yourself. Ems? _Emily!_"

The driver didn't say a word as Naomi caught up to them, asking how much the fare was and covering it for them. When Emily rolled down her window for another farewell, she was surprised when Naomi slipped a folded piece of paper into her palm. Blocking her twin's view by sitting upright, she tucked the paper away into her pocket as she waved back at Naomi and a grin was now firmly planted on her features as the cabbie finally drove them away.

* * *

When she arrived to her apartment, Emily was still grinning like a schoolgirl with her first crush. Katie had rambled on and on throughout the drive about how irritating Effy was, or how neglectful Naomi could be, or even what a bad apple Dylan was. And guess what? She didn't listen to a word! Not a damn thing. Nodding automatically as her sister followed her from room to room, Emily allowed herself to retreat into the quiet recesses of her mind where no one could follow.

"Emily, are you even listening to a word I'm saying?" Katie asked with a huff as she stopped at her sister's doorway to her bedroom, now fully aware as an adult that there were boundaries. They no longer shared a room together like they had when they were kids. In fact, there were a lot of things that they didn't, but a lot of which they did.

Like how both of them sure had a lot to say about the people living on Naomi's street, that's for sure.

"Of course I am. You hate Naomi, you hate Effy, and well… you dislike Dylan on default," Emily called out from her walk-in closet, where she found enough solace to open the piece of paper in peace without prying eyes watching her every move.

It could be pretty suffocating to be Emily Fitch sometimes.

"I do not dislike students! And I don't _hate_ anyone… that doesn't deserve it… like _those_ two," Katie answered, mumbling the last part to herself as she cocked a hip to the side, drumming her manicured fingernails against her skirt.

Emily slowly peeled open the paper, bringing up the back of her hand against her lips to muffle the laughter that was threatening to bubble out of her mouth. Her dark brown eyes trailed over the note written in haste, although the messy curves of the writing itself were not indistinguishable. Pulling out a pen to make her mark on the page, she folded it back up and tucked it into the pocket of the dress pants that she would be wearing the next day.

* * *

It was an almost ungodly hour to be up in the morning, but Naomi Campbell was still feeling the after jitters of the scare the night before. Sometime throughout the night, the little blonde runaway had snuck into her bed. _Again_. She never chastised him for it though, especially not today. No, for Naomi was pretty content just to watch Dylan sleep, huddled up in most of the blankets that he had stolen for himself, almost forming the shape of a cocoon.

If only she could keep him that way forever, so safe and protected from the rest of the world.

But she knew that eventually he would get older and start to pull away from her, developing his own interests, his own friends, and his own attitude… not that he didn't have enough of the latter pretty down packed already, because he certainly did.

"Mum, what are you thinking about?" Dylan asked gently with a sweet smile, peeking up at her through one sneaky eye while the other remained closed. One of his hands reached out to brush across the creases on her forehead, his own eyebrows furrowing during the gesture. She seemed so old when she did that and he didn't like it.

"Thinkin' 'bout me, I hope!"

Both blondes turned to stare at the wide grin of the one and only James Cook. Naomi leaned back on her palms in astonishment, while Dylan wasted no time in bouncing off of the bed and running over to tackle hug his favorite male. "Uncle Cook! I missed you!"

"Aye, me too, kid! Come 'ere," Cook called out affectionately as he wrapped his arms around the little boy and pulled him up off of the ground, giggles filling the air as the older male heaved the boy over his shoulder like newfound loot. "Rise 'n' shine, Naomikins!"

Naomi laughed and rolled her eyes, glad that she had mended her style of pjs (or lack thereof) in order to be a better role model for her son. But her arm still moved to lift the duvet up to cover her lower half out of pure instinct. "Morning, Cook. We weren't exactly… _expecting_ you."

"Clearly! I mean, where's my parade, eh champ?" Cook asked rhetorically as he looked to the little boy in his arms, who merely shrugged and pointed over at Naomi.

"Dunno. Have to ask my old lady 'bout that, uncle Cookie," Dylan whispered with a giggle, crying out in surprise when Naomi chucked a small pillow in their direction, although it was intercepted effortlessly by one of Cook's arms.

* * *

As Dylan was dressing himself for school and thinking up all of the exciting new things that he would talk to Cook about, Naomi handed the aforementioned male a beer as she sat beside him on the couch. It was pretty mellow compared to what they were used to, but she did have a child around and Naomi was pretty strict about walking the straight and narrow around him.

No hard liquor, no profanities, and no bringing over women; that went for them both.

"So, what's this I hear 'bout a redhead, babe?" Cook asked casually as he twisted off the cap of the bottle with practiced, calloused fingers. There was already a 'cat ate the canary' kind of grin on his lips and Naomi didn't particularly like it… no, not one bit. It always meant that he was going to give her a hard time about something and it was pretty hard to lie to him.

"Just Dylan's new teacher this year," Naomi answered, suddenly wishing that she had gotten herself a beer as well. "If you must know, her name is Emily Fitch. She found him out by a bus stop last night. He was going out to see you, actually."

Cook felt his pride swell and deflate at the same time, torn between feeling proud of the little guy for trying to join him and seeing how much of his reckless behavior he'd picked up on as well. But he knew that some of that gutsy bravery came from Naomi, so he couldn't entirely take the blame. Not that he was planning on taking _any_ at all.

"How long are you planning on sticking around this time?" Naomi asked after a pause, letting her words sink in, but not dwelling too much on the past. What's done is done.

"Not sure," Cook replied as he reached up to scratch the back of his head, his light eyes drifting around the area, before landing on the couch they were sitting on. "Y'know, this is pretty comfortable…"

Naomi smirked at Cook's obviously failed subtlety. "You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like, so long as you remember the rules," she offered, although her tone became more serious towards the end. She knew that keeping him here probably wasn't a good idea, but she couldn't very well throw the man that her son was so fond of out on the street. Eventually, it would be connected right back to them and they'd be worse off anyway.

And fuck him sideways, Cook _never_ thought he'd hear Naomi Campbell sound so demanding!

"Rules? Heh, you never were one for them. The kid's changed you, Naomikins. For the better. He's changed both of us, I think," Cook remarked after a moment, before Dylan appeared with his bookbag on his back and his lunch box in his hand.

"I'm ready! Mum, I want uncle Cook to take me to school today," Dylan stated, clearly not leaving any room for disagreement as he walked up to the legendary male in his eyes and grabbed his hand.

"As long as it's okay with him," Naomi said with a warm smile and a shrug of her shoulders, watching fondly as Cook was practically dragged out of the house by the little boy that was several feet shorter and much lighter on his feet. But boy, did he have some strength in those little hands! "Must be the video games," she mumbled to herself as she slipped her laptop into its bag and composed herself for her own day at work.

As much as she would have _loved_ to skip it and spend some time with her son and his favorite houseguest, the young blonde knew that life doesn't wait.

* * *

Emily fidgeted a bit with her hands, not sure what to do with them as she waited in the hallway while the parents moved passed her. She brushed them off on her skirt, before grazing her fingernails with her teeth for a moment, and then folding them behind her back. Sometimes when she stood out there like this, she felt like she was a student all over again, those same vulnerabilities floating up to the surface.

She remembered how difficult it was to fit in, when she rarely had more than three sets of clothes to change into and the same pair of classic All-Star Converse that were still residing somewhere in her closet. Add to that the fact that she was interested in women—which had been a bit of a big deal back then—and basically a shadow of her twin sister.

Let's just say that it wasn't easy.

Standing up on her tippy toes, Emily's eyes quickly scanned the crowd for any signs of Dylan Campbell or his charming mother, feeling her heart skip a beat every time she mistook a blonde head of hair for the duo. Eventually, the redhead began to lose hope and turned to go back inside, when she was stopped by a sharp tug on her sleeve. Glancing down to see Dylan now standing by her side, Emily smiled brightly as she leaned down to be at his level.

"Good morning, Dylan," she greeted him, before she noticed the shadow of another person that was standing beside the young boy. Letting her eyes move across the floor and giving them a once-over from head to toe (only _backwards_, really), the intrigued teacher felt like she should know this person from somewhere. It was like her senses were shouting at her about déjà vu, but her mind couldn't quite click to it yet.

"Good morning, Miss Fitch," Dylan greeted her politely, before nodding his head towards the taller male. "This is my uncle Cook."

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks to all the new readers! Glad to have you on board (: And ROCKtheMEDIA, thanks for your spot on reviews! Keffy is always such a tug of war, even in this AU scenario. It's just how they operate and they're all the more fun to write for it, so I'm glad you're enjoying them, lol.


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